


Always Enough

by trascendenza



Series: Enough [2]
Category: Brokeback Mountain (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-13
Updated: 2006-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-03 14:41:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trascendenza/pseuds/trascendenza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An important anniversary; Alma Jr. says goodbye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always Enough

**Author's Note:**

> (01) 2006-02-02, (02) 2006-02-13.

**01.**

Ennis del Mar fumbled to bed, half-in and half-out of his clothing, hardly caring enough to fully remove it. He was at a point beyond tired, the place a man reaches when life has sucked the marrow out of him and dropped the broken bones back onto the plate. He had been surprised when Junior had wished him a happy birthday last month during her call, had forgotten that there was anything significant attached to this rusty old body, thanked her awkwardly and changed the subject to something simpler.

Ennis lay like a stone, in the slippery half-trance state between sleep and awareness. His dreams were now the most vivid part of his life; flashes of color on a white canvas. Tonight, he knew, knew what was coming. It was the day he marked each year, a day as unavoidable and irrevocable as every moment borne of it.

*

_"Jack Twist."_

Pause, hesistance. "Ennis."

"Your folks just stop at Ennis?"

Further pause. "…del Mar."

"Nice to know you, Ennis del Mar."

The dream bore Ennis through the eternity of those cold mountain days. True to life, they passed too quickly, burned too brightly to stay lit. What was once so intense it scorched had smoldered down to a comfort, now, a warmth in the pit of his belly that helped him through the long nights.

_"You gonna do this again next summer?"_

"Maybe not… like I said, Alma and me's gettin' married in November…" as Ennis rattled off the words, something shifted, began to deviate.

"Ennis," Jack said quietly, gently. "I think it's about time you said 'yes' to one a my offers." He touched Ennis's cheek, lightly, the gesture full of understanding.

Ennis managed a barely perceptible nod. Jack took his hands, and gave him a kiss that tasted of promise and sweet loss.

*

For reasons unknown to the coroner, Ennis del Mar did not wake that morning. He was 69 years of age.

Ennis had never expected a second chance, never thought he deserved one. But it was always enough to know, to know that Jack had given it to him when he hadn't even known to ask.

**02.**

Alma Junior was lulled by the rhythm of her trek; pebbles crunched under her boots, the crisp air filled her lungs with a heady freshness, trees shading her path, making her shiver in the chill mountain morning and rub her hands together around the urn she carried. You want me there by sunrise, Daddy, I'll be there by sunrise, she said. The ash gray of the sky melted into a pink-tinged blue, shadows lazily gathered in the join between the lodgepole and the earth, and the birds started to stir, a few notes fluttering in the air like strings plucked in an empty room. She found the spot easily, set down the urn carefully, leaning it against the log, laid down her bag and got out her bottle of water, settled into the damp, malleable grass and pulled out an envelope from her jacket pocket. The script had been carefully written but was mostly faded after the ten year wait in the lawyer's office.

_Junior,  
Love you, little darling. Aint gonna stop just cause I'm not around no more._

The beginnings of a knowing smile twitched at Alma's mouth. She fingered the paper, held it up to the light and watched the rising sun glow through its well-worn creases, an image of her mother flashing in her thoughts, quickly pushed away. Alma had seen the hard, glassy look in her mother's eyes more times than she cared to remember, and neither she nor her father needed it today. She whiled away the day by telling her father stories, relating Francine Jr.'s latest anecdotes; how she would never fall asleep unless Kurt held her, how she still called Alma "amam" even though she knew better, how Kurt insisted on re-making the bed every day because Alma just couldn't seem to get the corners right. She explored the meadow, smelled the fecund secrets of this place, touched the crumbling bark of the trees, began to feel a bodily understanding of why her father wanted to be here, began to see why he always had the look of the mountains in his face, the wind in his body. Wordless knowledge percolated through Alma's thoughts like rainwater through gravel, purifying as it traveled, until it was distilled into its simplest parts.

As the day wore on, lavender bled into the sky, giving the sun a blood-red glow as it slid soundlessly behind the horizon. Alma stood by the river, urn in hand, and opened the second envelope from her coat. This missive was more hastily written, the ink relatively fresh on the paper.

_Junior,  
Know everything don't make sense right now. After much thinking I decided I ought to tell you why. If you decide that you want the answers your momma won't give you, its all here._

Alma replied, as if this were a conversation, "You don't owe me nothin', Daddy. Besides, I think enough people done passed their judgments on you already. Whatever you done, you done; that's all there is to it." Alma took a deep breath, allowed the paper to slip through her fingers and into the rushing waters, watching the current sweep her father's confessions into the distance. You know I understand, she said quietly. She held the urn in her two hands, saw that it was a vessel holding the remains of another vessel, and knew that the part of her father that had been too large for every room he entered, too large for marriage, was free in this wild land, with its lush plains and ocean deep skies. Alma judged the sunset to be at its most brilliant; it verged on descent, flirting with the mountaintops, and the sky blazed like the fire of heaven, golden and red flames skirting the surface. She scattered the ashes, humming the lullaby her father had taught her when she was but a baby.

"I'm so glad I could bring you here, Daddy." She bit her lip, blinked through tears that were anything but straightforward. And there was no more to say, because nothing more need be said.


End file.
